Chapter 8: Even Rolling Counts as Luck
Sunrise had come before I knew it. The entertainment district, rowdy all through the night, had gone quiet, while life began stirring in the residential and commercial areas. Diligent NPCs were stepping out one by one, heading to their workplaces. And their eyes always lingered on me, just for a moment.
"Oh my! Did that gentleman spend the whole night cleaning around the entertainment district?"
"I've never seen anyone with such a kind heart!"
Just as the villagers said, I'd spent the night wandering the entertainment district, picking up trash and vomit. More precisely, I'd been completing Luck Quests. Filling the Luck Gauge, enhancing items, filling the gauge again... repeating that all night had turned it into a habit.
Luck Gauge: 13%
Moving like some mindless laborer in a loop had built up a decent Luck Gauge again, but when I checked my inventory, there were no more items left to enhance. And look at the time already.
Sleep still isn't coming.
Now that I was synchronized, I'd surpassed normal human limits. I felt a bit of fatigue, but it was bearable.
Leveling up should wipe it away again, right?
Habak was probably at work by now, so Egelina was likely masturbating alone at home again. Meeting her would let me level up quick, but...
First things first—job change.
The job change training hall was packed with players. Among them, I spotted a few others decked out in the Black Mamba set like me. At least level 15 or higher. Some even wore gear with a level 20 equip restriction. Like me, most were well past the level 10 minimum for job change.
The exam's a real bitch.
In Heroes, job changes weren't easy. No matter the class, you had to pass a test to get the one you wanted. And those tests were brutal—challenging at level 10 was just a waste of time. They even charged for the attempt, so you'd lose money too. In my past life, I didn't pass until level 25.
Lost in old memories as I walked, I soon entered the training hall with a sign reading Weapon Master.
A decent crowd of players was already gathered.
But why so many?
Weapon Master was popular, sure, but this was excessive. And they all looked high-level. It hadn't been like this when I job-changed in my past life.
"Are you the aspirants seeking to become Weapon Masters?"
While I scanned the room, a woman I assumed was the instructor stepped up to the podium. She looked nearly 175cm tall—tall for a woman. About a head shorter than me.
Her outfit was unique. Armor covering about as much as a swimsuit—classic bikini armor. It looked like a hooker at first glance, but there was a reason for it.
Weapon Masters wielded countless weapons. Players could store them in inventory, but NPCs couldn't. So they minimized armor weight and bulk. In place of cumbersome plates, weapons covered every spot. Sword and axe at her waist, spear and bow on her back. Thigh straps like garters bristled with daggers and throwing weapons. Fully armed and deadly.
...But she's pretty.
The instructor from my past life had been a burly old man. This one was muscular too, but not intimidating. Jet-black bob haircut. Thick brows and sharp features gave her striking beauty.
Her healthy tanned skin accentuated a killer body. Slim waist, defined abs. But her lower body was something else—wide hips flowing into thick, solid thighs, then long shins. With legs that long, her sitting height probably matched most women's standing. Perfectly maintained. Slap some leggings on her, and she'd pass for a top fitness influencer.
Not just me—every other player was ogling her face and figure.
The instructor didn't seem annoyed by the stares. Satisfied, even. Made sense. She'd be proud of a body like that.
"I will oversee and evaluate your exam. I hail from the Yaka tribe, and my name is..."
"Nice to meet you! Instructor Gawella!"
What the hell? The black guy next to me called out her name before she could finish, acting like they were buddies.
Wait, isn't this that asshole from earlier?
"Ah, Bigsim. Back again. Your persistence is commendable."
Yep, that prick. Instructor Gawella called him Bigsim—the same name as the guy who'd picked a fight with me at dawn.
And what did she just say? His persistence was commendable? Did that fit this guy? I'd seen him stumbling out of a brothel at dawn.
All eyes turned to Bigsim beside me. The guys' gazes burned with jealousy and envy. Bigsim smirked smugly, then shot a possessive glare at everyone—like She's mine, back off.
Ah, got it. The 'woman he was gonna fuck and ditch' he bragged about at dawn—it's Instructor Gawella.
From what Gawella said, he'd polished his image to impress her.
Easy payback.
A petty move, sure, but just whispering what he'd said at dawn to Gawella would screw him over.
The other guys eyed Gawella hungrily too.
Ah, that's why so many people. They're here to ogle her.
Now it clicked. And from Gawella's words, Bigsim had failed this exam multiple times already.
Pathetic simp.
He was deliberately failing to keep taking the test. Probably to see and interact with Gawella more.
Ruining that would be sweet revenge.
"Hm?"
Gawella, eyeing Bigsim, suddenly turned to me.
"Ah! You!"
"Me?"
Not a mistake. She beamed and approached.
What? Do we know each other?
I didn't remember. Too long ago, maybe forgotten?
"I saw you on my morning jog! Cleaning the village all alone for so long! Thank you!"
Ah, she saw that.
I hadn't done it to impress, but no harm in her thinking so.
"Haha! A fine man like you aspiring to be a Weapon Master! I'm thrilled. I'm Instructor Gawella!"
"Hero candidate Baek Sion."
"Good! Pass with flying colors and uphold the Weapon Master's honor!"
She shook my hand firmly, then returned to her spot. Nice to be acknowledged by a hot woman, hold her hand...
Look at those glares. They're gonna eat me alive.
The jealous stares that had been on Bigsim now targeted me. Especially murderous from Bigsim right beside me.
"You monkey bitch... You planned this?"
He'd twisted my dawn trash-picking into some ploy. Idiot. If it was for show, I'd have done it at sunrise, not predawn.
I didn't bother explaining. Instead, I alternated meaningful glances between him and Gawella.
He got the hint—his face twisted hilariously.
"Let the exam begin."
Focus for now. I needed the job change.
The Weapon Master exam had three stages. Seventy applicants this round; only thirty made it past stage two.
I breezed through, but watching others drop like flies reminded me how tough it was.
"Now for the final stage!"
Stage three was outdoors—at a dungeon on the village outskirts. Too far to walk, so we used carriages provided by the training hall. Gawella and staff drove.
Five carriages, six applicants each.
My carriage was hostile. Specifically, the stares aimed at me.
"What the fuck are you?"
Bigsim glared. Why'd he sit next to me again?
"Why you groping Gawella?"
I hadn't groped. If anything, she'd flirted.
"Fuck. Monkey. Answer me?"
Oh, right—only Asian here. Two blacks including Bigsim, three whites.
"Yellow monkey can't understand words?"
"Haha! Could be!"
They'd seemed at odds before, but a common enemy united them perfectly.
"Hey, monkey. Your tiny dick can't satisfy even a female monkey. Jerk off alone at home instead of dreaming."
Bigsim's racism had started day one. Annoying, but first I thought: What morons.
"Didn't you hear Gawella's intro earlier?"
"Ha! Monkey, we've known her longer than you."
"Yeah, how many times you think we've heard that speech?"
Made them even dumber.
Gawella had introduced herself as Yaka tribe. A persecuted minority in this world.
"And you're spewing racism in a carriage driven by a Yaka like Gawella?"
They faltered.
"Idiots. Want to impress her? Show real class. Not this pathetic trash-talking cope."
"This fucker..."
"Yaka worship strength. You losers can't even job-change on time—she gonna fall for that?"
"Shut your bullshit! She said my persistence was good!"
"She called me a fine man too."
Speechless again, Bigsim just gaped. I grinned at him.
"So passionate, huh? At dawn you were bragging about fucking and ditching—didn't peg you for a romantic."
"You... Shut your mouth!"
He hadn't expected me to overhear. His eyes shook wildly.
I'd said it to troll, but his reaction screamed seriousness. Yesterday's brothel brag was probably just macho posturing with friends.
I'd seen it before—guys denying their NPC crushes with fake player-chaser vibes. Maybe Bigsim was genuine about Gawella.
Even better.
His "romance" meant nothing to me. I just wanted petty revenge.
You have left the safe zone!
The carriage briefly exited the safe zone en route to the dungeon. And as if waiting...
"Get out, monkey!"
Bigsim stood and kicked me.
Bam!
The impact flung the door open; I tumbled down the steep slope.
I could've reacted. For real. Wasn't playing possum—I'd anticipated it.
From past-life experience, I knew the route left safe zone briefly. Since spotting Bigsim at the hall, I'd considered stabbing him dead.
But scrapped it—too much hassle for the exam, and crushing his crush felt better.
So why not dodge when I saw it coming?
Luck has occurred!
Luck. Right before the kick, my 13% morning Luck Gauge vanished, triggering luck. So I let it happen.
This mess was my luck.
Still letting it roll. My body tumbled down the slope, but high defense meant no pain.
"Ow."
I stopped rolling, stood, and grinned.
I'd landed at a cave mouth in the rocks.
Luck guided me here—something good inside, for sure.